


And Down He Fell

by CaptainSchmoe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Creepy Sexual Undertones, Crying, Emotional Manipulation, Friendship, Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Harm, Torture, Tragedy, Violence, and there's a Mark pun in there too because it's me, pseudo hurt/comfort, the classic CaptainSchmoe tag lineup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 14:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSchmoe/pseuds/CaptainSchmoe
Summary: An idea I had regarding the creation of Blankgameplays, where instead of the community making him real, Dark and Anti are going to do it instead. As expected, it's pretty damn cruel.Too little, too late, Mark.





	And Down He Fell

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Dark says some pretty horrible things to Ethan, which I based off real complaints I've seen made towards him, but this is only a reflection of the kind of asshole Dark is, and is not my opinion of Ethan. I love Ethan, I swear.

Dark watched the kid from the other side of the screen. He wasn’t  _actually_  a kid. But he certainly came across as the “baby of the family” in his circle of friends. A young, round face with next to no facial hair, a bright and bubbly personality. Even Mark, whom Dark always called “boy” due to his rampant, incessant immaturity, looked and acted wise beyond his years in comparison. The same could be said of Jack. Even this “kid’s” name brought to Dark’s mind the vision of a teen boy: Ethan.

It hardly changed Dark’s opinion of leaving him in solitary - the wine cellar.

He monitored Ethan at nearly every waking moment, leaving Anti to babysit him when he was away. Under the threat of Anti harming him, Ethan was not allowed to do anything that might enable him to escape this prison, including by way of his own death. Yet Dark knew for certain that sooner or later, Ethan would be begging for Anti to hurt him, if only to save him from the numbness, the mindless day-in-day-out of absolutely nothing but staring at the same walls, floor, and ceiling; of fidgeting and squirming in a vain attempt at finding stimulation; of talking to people that visited his head.

And Dark is certain that he will beg to be hurt thinking he’d be clever and surprising that way.

He wouldn’t.

* * *

 

No answer.

Mark’s desperation skyrocketed. Ethan hadn’t shown any sign of activity in a week. The community’s been worried sick; now Mark’s own social media feeds were being filled with questions of his well-being. Questions that Mark himself would like to answer. Not just his, either. The panic was spreading to Ethan and Mark’s other friends, too - Girbeagly, the rest of Teamiplier, Bob, Wade, Jack… Normally, he’d ignore or scold people for sticking their noses in their personal lives. But this time… This time, he couldn’t  _not_  be on their side. They had a point. No one just disappears for no reason, especially not for a whole week.

And at the very least, Ethan would let his friends know what he was doing behind the scenes. But he answered neither texts nor calls nor emails nor Facetimes, and now, not even his damn front door. If it turned out he  _was_  okay after all this, Mark was going to be  _outraged_. But he focused himself and kept a level, rational head. Ethan was  _not_  that kind of person, or he wouldn’t be hanging out with the likes of them.

 _Sigh…_  And all this after he’d just started going full time on his channel, too. Coincidence? Maybe, hopefully, question mark?

He peered through each of the windows, not caring how suspicious he might have looked to passersby, hoping and praying for any sign of activity inside. It was in the kitchen that he found his answer.

“Oh, what the fuck is this…” He shivered.  _Not this. Not this shit._  Mark wasn’t sure what he  _wanted_  to see… but this wasn’t close to being it. Distortions in space gently warping the tiled floor and the counter behind it, eerie hues of blue, red, and magenta forming a ring around a stark white crack in the middle. Goddammit… he thought he kept that bastard at bay!

* * *

 

Sooner, rather than later, Ethan tried hurting himself. He’d started banging his arm against the corner of the counter over and over again, to the point where it started bruising and bleeding. Then his other arm.

Anti was jumping around, hoping to get in on the action. To make him _really_ hurt.

If it would get him to shut up, fine.

* * *

 

Bleeding, broken bones, broken teeth, broken nose, tears streaking down his face. Dark was there to comfort and heal him, to relieve him of his newfound pain, and let him know that there was always a better way out. All he had to do was say the word, and he’d be free of the torment.

The kid wasn’t ready yet. Ethan refused without hesitation, still waiting patiently for his hero, Mark, to come to his rescue. He “just knew” he would.

How naive. He really  _was_  a child.

* * *

 

“Shut up, Jack!” The echo of that godforsaken cartoonish voice pounded into Anti’s temples. Begging him to leave Ethan alone. What, as a favor? Because Jack did _sooo_ much for him in return?  _Pfft._  Yeah, right.

What was his problem with it, anyway? All Anti wanted was to pierce that unmarred skin of his and listen to his fresh, whole voice scream until it was cracked and hoarse. What was wrong with that? The amount of fun Anti was going to have doing it will  _more_  than make up for any aches and pains Ethan might feel from it. How Jack and Friends refused to grasp that, Anti may never know.

* * *

 

Jack pounded at the edge of his mind. Over and over and over again, screaming profanities all the while in the hopes that Anti would get pissed enough to let him take over, even if it likely meant getting stabbed prior to. He had no control over his arms, legs, fingers, or mouth, and yet he saw or heard every one of those parts of his body doing or saying these vile things to a sweetheart of a friend who had little to do with any of this and no way to defend himself.

Jack knew what Anti and Dark were trying to do. And from the short-lived conversations between Anti and Ethan, he learned the reasoning why.

He wanted so badly to cry. Every time he saw another bone get broken, or another slash get made, or another tear dripped off his chin…

But Anti was in control, and thus he was forced to smile and laugh and get off on it.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand why you think it’s worth continuing life as it is, Ethan.”

“You shut up!” he snapped. “I’m not afraid of you!”

“I never said you should be.” Dark casually inspected his nails as he spoke. “I’m just saying you need to accept the reality that you’re not needed. You’re redundant.”

“I’m not redundant!”

“Your entire personality is nothing more than an amalgamation of all the trite and irritating aspects of Jack and Mark!” His voice was suddenly a roar, overwhelming Ethan’s senses and making him feel like a tiny mouse. “What do you have to offer to this world that they don’t?”

“I don’t  _need_  to offer anything,” Ethan said. The confidence grew in his heart. This was where he took everything he learned from the community and his friends and used it to steel himself. “I’m my own person! And people like me for me! I don’t care that there’s some people who call me a clone or a copy or whatever. Those people don’t matter to me.”

Dark tilted his head and clasped his hands in front of himself, listening intently. His face remained a flat neutral. Something suggested to Ethan that Dark had a comeback for this, like he always had. His very presence, with his eyes focusing the spotlight on him and only him, sounded an alarm bell in the back of his mind. His anxiety took over, leaving him indecisive on his next word choices.

“So that’s why I- I have friends and family and a community who support me… I- I don’t need to be the best- No one needs to be the best at what they do to be valuable. Or to be- to be worth anything…”

Dark continued to stare him down after the words stopped flowing. His brows furrowed in confusion - mock confusion, more likely. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop talking?”

Ethan choked.

“Ethan? It’s a legitimate question. Why did you trail off like that? You seemed to be on such a roll with your valiant speech, and then you suddenly weren’t.”

 _I… I…_  The lump in his throat made it hurt to try and speak.

“Is it because you realized it didn’t sound as good spoken aloud as it did in your head?”

He lowered his head, trying to hide the emerging tears.

“Ethan…” Dark knelt down, placing a hand on his shoulder. Actually warm. He’d figured it would be cold for some reason. “It’s all right. It happens to even the best of us at some point.”

_What do I do?_

“I know everyone likes to say that no one is more valuable than anyone else, Ethan. But the truth is that deep down, people do prefer people with talent. If they didn’t, there would be no such things and envy or jealousy. And yet, they exist. If you don’t measure up, others  _will_  hurt you.”

“But…” Ethan’s voice cracked, exposing his broken core, though he still didn’t want to show his face to Dark. “But what about my friends and family? They love me, at least.”

“By obligation.”

The sharp and cold words burrowed into his mind. He shouldn’t believe what this asshole had to say. He  _didn’t_  believe what this asshole had to say. This was all shit that had been thrown at him in the past. None of these insults were new. He was able to take it then.

So why did it make him cry now?

“I know it hurts, Ethan,” Dark said in a soft, almost… pained, tone. “I know how it feels. And I know how to take it away.”

“No.” Ethan still shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “No, I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

He sniffed. He didn’t want to tell him. It was practically opening the door for him. Yet he knew that if he didn’t answer, Dark wouldn’t go away. “I’m scared…”

“So were Anti and I.” Dark wrapped his arms around him and stroked his back. It felt nice. But wrong. But  _warm_. But  _sick_. “Believe me, we felt all the same things you are now.”

Could he believe him?

“I’m only doing what is best for you.”

* * *

 

Jack could only watch as Anti stalked Mark from afar, following him through the woods, around the bend, and up the driveway towards the cursed house. The dread sank into Jack’s stomach, knowing that Anti was just waiting to sink his teeth into him, and could do so in a split second, without Mark even knowing what hit him. More likely, though, Anti was going to draw his attention first, and play with his food for a bit.

Either way, Jack would be forced to take a front-row seat to the carnage.

* * *

 

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

He didn’t want to do this.

But he felt Dark doing it anyway, sapping the last remnants of his soul out of his body.

He must’ve been weak. That was the only explanation.

The last thing he saw was his own body, sitting up against the counter.

Broken. Defeated.

* * *

 

_This must be it._

No shit it would be in the WKM house. Or at least a generated replica of it. Mark wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of going inside, but if it meant saving Ethan, it was completely worth it.

“Wait up!” screamed a familiar “glitchy” voice behind him. Mark whirled around, finding none other than Anti at the end of the driveway, jogging towards him. “What’s the rush? Not even gonna stop and smell the lilacs?”

“I’m here to rescue Ethan,” Mark answered flatly.

Anti busted his gut, doubling over mid-stride in screechy laughter that Mark could feel pounding in his ears. “Oh, man! Good one! That’s the best joke I’ve heard all week!” He wiped his eyes, standing back upright. Still giggling, he said, “Now lemme tell you one.”

“Sure, all right.”

“Why did the hitman cross the road?”

 _Oh, boy._  “I don’t know. Why?”

Anti finally made another move, taking steps towards him. His head lowered like a wolf stalking its prey. “Because his Mark was on the other side.” The crunching of the gravel under his shoes served as an extra touch of menace to his words and posture. Mark stayed on guard, knowing that underneath that goofy, jokey exterior lay a merciless killing machine not to be trifled with any more than Darkiplier could be.

“Ha ha, yes, very funny, pun on ‘Mark’, I get it.”

“I sense some sarcasm.” Anti stopped and crossed his arms. Now he was only a few yards away - too close for comfort. “If you don’t like my jokes, maybe you should change your name to something that’s harder to pun. How about Tiberius?”

“Tiberius Fischbach?” Mark took a step back, slowly and subtly, hoping Anti wouldn’t notice him trying to increase the distance between them - and increase his chances of slipping inside the house.

“Yeah, sounds pretty badass, does- Hey, where are you going?”

_Shit._

“You trying to get away from me? What, do I offend you that much? Is it my jokes? Do I smell?” He gave his armpit a quick sniff. “No, it can’t be that.”

What the hell was Mark supposed to say or do? Anything was going to cause Anti to jump on him and start tearing him apart. He flicked a glance towards the door. It didn’t seem  _too_  far away. But neither did Anti. Perhaps he could somehow try to help Jack regain control.

If he knew how.

“Mark?” Anti’s bottom lip stuck out. “Do you do this to everyone, or just me?”

He hesitated on the loaded question. And Anti picked up on it. With no further warning, he bounded towards Mark, claws and teeth out, eyes black.

“So you  _are_  as much of an asshole as advertised!”

_“Aah!”_

One hand’s fingers sunk into his face, and the other’s in his abdomen. Mark tried to shove him off, but Anti was solidly stuck. If he tried too hard, flesh and blood were going to fly.

Anti pushed back, hard enough to send Mark to the rugged ground. The side of his head cracked against a particularly sharp rock, and his ears rang. Anti cackled in his face, splashing him with spittle. “Can you tell how much Jack’s been working out lately? That was a little too easy, knocking you down, Buff Stuff.”

“That won’t be necessary, Anti.”

“What?” His head snapped up, and he gasped in delight, releasing Mark and sprinting for Dark. Mark turned his head -  _ow_  - towards them, finding him with –

_Ethan!_

But he… he wasn’t right… His expression was dead, his eyes were… solid black… Gaping holes into his skull, into his soul.

“Look at you!” Anti squealed. “Our new baby boy!” He crouched slightly, with his hands on his knees. “Say ‘Anti’!”

“No.”

_Oh, God, what was that voice on him?_

“Wow. Rude." Anti crossed his arms and turned away in a huff.

“Mark,” Dark announced, “meet Blank.”

 _No…_  “What- What did you do to him?”

 _“Argh!”_  Anti grabbed at his own hair, violently shaking his head. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“Let him out.”

“But Dark-”

“Do it, Anti.” Dark cracked a small smile that set Mark on edge. “I’d like to see Jack’s face for a bit.”

“…Hmph.” Anti’s body started to phase, morphing itself into a more friendly form. One that might help Mark feel less alone in this place, since Ethan didn’t appear to be himself in the slightest.

Jack fell over, taking a moment to breathe and compose himself. “Mark,” he said, “that’s not Ethan. Ethan’s gone!”

“What do you-”

“Ethan’s gone!” Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his flushed cheeks. “They tortured him until he gave in and let them corrupt him into… that thing!”

“Torture?” Mark had a deep urge to start throwing his fists. But that would be suicide, even without the head pain and dizziness. He tried sitting up. He needed to lean on his arm for balance, pebbles digging into his palm, but he made it.

Dark’s smile grew. “That’s what I wanted to see.”

“Sick bastard!”

“Keep crying, Jack. It’s cathartic for you and a pleasure for me. A win-win.”

Mark shuddered at the purring rumble of Dark’s voice.

“Do you see him, Mark?” Dark asked, hand on Ethan’s back. Mark’s eyes focused. He studied every part of Ethan’s body and posture, hoping for a sign of any remnant left in him. But there was none. His eyes were black voids. His skin and clothes were shades darker. He didn’t fidget or brush his hands through his hair.

“They said…” Jack hiccuped. “They turned him into an ego because the community’s catching on.”

“Catching onto what?”

“Dark and Anti started with the community’s ideas. But now that they know these things come to life, they aren’t doing it anymore.” Jack rubbed his eyes and nose, wiping the slime on his pants. “So now Dark and Anti are doing the ego-making themselves, only… only-”

Dark finished his sentence. “Only our method of creating a new ego utilizes the body of the original.”

“Meaning?” Mark asked.

“Meaning the original - Ethan, in this case - is gone. Unlike Anti and myself, Blank doesn’t coexist with his original version. He replaced him. Ethan is, for all intents and purposes, dead.”

“No!” Mark sprang to his feet, and a shot of head pain sent him straight back down, the impact smashing his jaws and teeth together.

“I’m afraid so. Maybe you shouldn’t have waited so long to start looking for him.”

“Wha- I…”  _Is it my fault? Could I really have saved him if only I got here sooner?_

“Mark, don’t- Don’t let him get to you, too.”

“I…” _But..._

Ethan - no, _Blank_ \- spoke up. “I thought I could rely on you, Mark.”

 _No._  That voice, that voice was so wrong. Low-pitched, monotone, with a mechanical, robotic hint. Ethan… Would he really never see him again?

Blank shook his head, staring at the ground. Black tears streaked down his face. “I thought wrong.”

“Mark,” Jack pressed, laying a hand onto his shoulder, “whatever you do, you  _can’t_  make yourself believe that it’s your fault.”

“You’d rather he delude himself into thinking he’s better than he actually is?” Dark asked.

“ _You_  go fuck yourself.”

“I hate you both,” Blank spat. “I wish I never met you.”

The words put a bullet to Mark’s heart. He was stunned, and Jack likewise had no response.

“You know, I think I’d rather let you two go. Blank and I have some business to go over. In the meantime…” Dark raised his hand, forming a glowing white crack in space in front of it - a portal back to the real world. “…you two can entertain yourselves trying to explain to your fans and loved ones why you failed to save someone supposedly so important to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel sad about this and don't want to? Here's a moodkill:
> 
> http://verobrunhi.tumblr.com/post/172405140797/can-you-imagine-if-dark-and-anti-accept-blank-into


End file.
